Not Gonna Write You a Love Song
by FreeElves
Summary: Nora comes to Barden after a bad breakup and is coerced into joining the Barden Bellas. She vows not make the same mistakes she did in high school, but when one of the Trebles worms his way into her life, she has a feeling that she's going to be breaking a lot of oaths. Donald/OC, Kinda AU
1. Welcome to Barden

Even though summer was ending, Atlanta still felt unbearably hot, at least to Nora, and the humidity only made it worse. That was the one of the things she hated about Georgia—the humidity. She brushed a strand of wavy dark hair out of her face and grudgingly stepped out of her the air conditioned silver Civic and her mother said, "Wow, what a lovely campus."

And it was, Nora admitted. It had a somewhat prestigious feel, at least the older buildings did. Their brick walls inlaid with arches had moss growing in their cracks. The landscaping was also pretty nice and practical; the many trees provided some cooling shield against the sun. When it got cooler and less hellish, she might enjoy being outside in the daytime.

The campus was anything but calm, as crowds of students were running around with boxes and suitcases trying to find their dorms, say good-bye to tearful parents, or mingle with friends they missed over the summer.

A young man in a yellow polo approached them with a dolly and Nora and her mother started unloading the trunk. There wasn't _too_ much, she thought: a suitcase, some pillows, a box of miscellaneous things, a small TV and Xbox, and her keyboard, packed securely away in a black gig bag. She felt a little bad, though, seeing as this guy was going to be the one hauling it all the way to her dorm. She carried her laptop with her in her backpack, feeling more secure with it on her person.

A blonde woman approached with a green polo and a smile so wide Nora was expecting her face to crack like a mirror.

"Hello!" the blonde greeted, in a tone that matched her smile. "Welcome to Barden! What dorm?"

"She's in Laville," her mother answered quickly for her.

"Alright-y! So, what you're gonna do is go down the road…" she directed them with her hands as Nora zoned out, letting her gaze fall on the excited and/or worried faces around her.

"…and Laville is just to the left! It's a big old building; you can't miss it! If you get lost, Tom knows where it is." She pointed to the guy in the yellow polo that had helped them unpack. Nora felt a bit sorry for him; he did not look like he enjoyed his job at all. And, really, why would he?

Before leaving to find Laville Hall, the blonde provided Nora with a campus map and a certified BU rape whistle, advising her not to use it unless it was actually happening. Her mother was shocked at that statement, and asked, "How safe is this campus?"

They made their way to Laville Hall, and arrived after only a few minutes and only a couple directions from Tom, which he delivered in an exhausted and very miserable voice.

Nora's roommate had not arrived yet, giving her first dibs on which bed. The room was very bright, with white walls and cream-colored carpet, but nice.

As she unpacked, her mother looked at her worriedly.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked.

She sighed. "It's a little late to back out now," Nora said. "I'll be fine."

"I know. I just get worried about you. You just seem so lost now."

"Mom," she said, kicking her empty suitcase under the bed, "I'm fine. See: happy." She plastered a smile on her face.

Her mother smiled softly. "Okay, sweetie. Remember, this is a chance to turn over a new leaf."

* * *

Her mother, regretfully, had to leave shortly after Nora had finished unpacking. She had to drive back home, and catch a plan to New York for a meeting. She kissed Nora good-bye, making her promise to call once a week, "at least", and asking again if Nora was sure she was going to be fine. After repeated assurances, she finally left.

Her roommate still had not arrived.

Nora decided to meet up with friend from high school, instead of wait around in her roommate. Her friend had texted her earlier his dorm and room number. After wandering around for a good ten minutes, she finally found it: Baker Hall. Getting in was easy enough; security was lax due to people still trying to move in. She found his room on the second floor.

She knocked a popular rhythm on his door, hoping that this was his room, so that some random guy didn't think she was a weirdo. She had enough of that already.

Sure enough, the door flew open and she was immediately enveloped in a tight hug, lifted off the ground, and twirled around. She demanded he put her down at once, trying to sound stern and annoyed, but she could not hide the genuine smile on her face.

"Nora!" he cried.

"Jesse!" she cried back.

He set her down, and allowed her to give him a proper hug. She was pretty short compared to him.

"How was your summer?" she asked.

"Pretty good. I went up to Minnesota to see family, which was nice. What about yours? How are you and Andrew doing?"

Her face fell and she said, "We broke up. Two weeks ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Yeah. It was because of the distance or something."

There was an awkward silence before Jesse coughed and introduced her to the other boy in the room, Benji, his roommate, who was quietly watching the encounter between the two friends.

He had a kind face and fluffy, curly blonde hair. What she noticed immediately after was his black magician's cape and the _Star Wars_ paraphernalia all over his side of the room.

"Wow," she commented. This level of fanboy was impressive.

"Do you like _Star Wars_?" Benji asked, hopefully.

"I'm more of a Trek fan, actually. I grew up on The Original Series."

He looked almost scandalized, like she had just said she hated puppies, or magic (which wasn't true). He seemed about ready to launch an ideological debate about the franchises, when Jesse, as much as he would have enjoyed a nerd fight—in which he would have sided with Benji, because, come on, _Star Wars_ had the superior music score—interrupted.

"So, there's an activities fair going on…"

* * *

Nora pocketed the flyer she grabbed from the Women's Rugby Club table. It was one of the first tables she past with Jesse and Benji, after walking by a group of frat boys who didn't have a very good grasp on grammar.

"Good idea." Jesse said. "You got a lot of pent-up aggression you need to release."

"That's what you're for," she replied and punched him in the arm. Not very hard, of course, but that didn't stop him from crying out.

"Ow!"

"You're such a baby. I didn't even hit you that hard."

"Don't befriend her, Benji; she uses you as a punching bag. I think you gave me a dead arm."

She ignored them and grabbed a flyer and a free cookie from the Food Enthusiasts Club. Her mood had definitely improved from early this afternoon after reuniting with Jesse.

"Follow me," Benji said. "There's only one group worth joining."

Benji led them to a group of about eight guys standing around a wall. One guy was sitting on a unicycle and lifting his shirt up, showing off his abs to passersby. The Indian guy had his eyes glued to his phone. Nora was confused, at first, since they didn't appear to be an actual club.

"_Whip it!"_ They burst into song. "_Wanna see you whip it…" _

"The Treblemakers," Benji sighed. "Now, this is what being a man is all about."

…_An a capella group…_ They were good, though, really good.

She heard the unmistakable sound of beatboxing coming from the Indian guy whose attention was still on his phone as he nodded his head and moved his shoulders to the beat. He was kind of attractive, Nora thought, in a completely hipster, pretty boy kind of way, with his thick-framed glasses and nice hair.

"Organized nerd singing," Jesse commented.

"Like you can talk," Nora said. "You were in musical theater."

Benji perked up at that, and asked Jesse, "How's your voice?"

Jesse nodded his head to the beat, and sang a short line of the song with them, "_We both are here to have the fun, so let it whip!"_ He had a good voice, one he had been training for a long time. There was a reason he got so many leads their high school musicals.

"Nice," Benji said in affirmation. He looked over to Nora, "Unfortunately, you can't join, for obvious reasons." He didn't look like he thought it was that unfortunate, though.

"Oh, it's okay," Jesse reassured him. "Nora's secretly a man."

"Well, now it's not a secret," she said.

The 'Treblemakers' finished their song. Nora winced when Unicycle took a football to the back of his head and fell face first into the concrete. A few guys went and helped him up while the lead singer, a short guy who appeared vaguely hobbit-ish, started criticizing one of his backups.

"When you came in and you were just strumming your guitar, and it was like totally off-key, I wanted to choke you!"

The beatboxer put his hand on the leader's shoulder. "Bumper," he said, trying to hold him back from further verbally attacking the other Treblemaker.

Benji put on his game face. "Alright, I'm going to introduce myself. Everybody be cool; it's just a normal day," he said to himself.

"Hi," Benji greeted. "Benjamin Applebaum. I saw you guys perform at a Mall of America three years ago. It totally changed my life. I have not stopped thinking about you since."

'Bumper' blinked and said, clearly uncomfortable, "Thank you..."

_Well, that took a sharp turn into awkward._ Nora looked at Jesse, raising eyebrows, as if asking 'Should we intervene?' He merely gave her a shrug in response.

Nora had to hand it to Benji, though. She wouldn't have been able to scrape up enough courage to talk to a group of people she was obviously a fan of; even if the Treblemakers were just a college a capella group. She probably would have just stared awkwardly at them from a safe distance if she were in his shoes.

"And, Bumper," he said to the leader, "your arrangement of Love and Spoonful's 'Do You Believe in Magic' inspired me to become a certified illusionist." He performed a magic trick to demonstrate, pulling a red handkerchief out of nowhere.

"Wow," Nora said. She was getting a lot of second-hand embarrassment from Benji, but the boy didn't seem fazed by the unimpressed and uncomfortable looks he was getting from the Treblemakers.

"The smell of your weird is actually affecting my vocal cords, so I'm gonna have to ask you to scooch. Skedaddle," Bumper waved them off. "Not you, though," he said to Nora. "You're a girl, you can stay." A few of the guys made sounds of agreement. Beatboxer looked her up and down shamelessly.

"Uh. I'll pass," she said.

"How 'bout we exchange e-mails, and totally hang out right now together?" Benji asked, trying to bounce back from the last rebuff.

Bumper shook his head rapidly. "No. Hard pass. Hard pass."

Jess put his arm around Benji and carefully guided him away from the Treblemakers. Nora followed. Benji seemed to be dazed and confused by the encounter, wondering what he did wrong. He ignored, or just didn't register, Bumper's "Nerd Alert!" followed by laughter from the Treblemakers. She looked back briefly to see the Treblemakers matching pitch. The beatboxer's attention was back on his phone, but he looked up at her from over his glasses, a little smirk playing on his lips. She turned around, getting angry with herself when she felt a light blush reach her cheeks. It was too early to be letting a guy get her all flustered.

_You broke up with Andrew two weeks ago,_ she reminded herself. _Besides, this guy is probably a complete player. Don't even bother._

"Maybe I should have done another trick…" Benji said.

"The trick was fine," Jesse reassured him. "It's just the talking was weird. Maybe you can try to Facebook message him."

"I don't know. They kinda seem like arrogant assholes," Nora quipped.

Benji whipped around. "Don't say that! The Trebles are brilliant. Their arrangements are top notch, as is their choreography, and their harmonization is perfect. Did you know that they won the ICCAs six years in a row?"

She raised her hands defensively. "Alright. They're great performers." She didn't even know what the ICCAs were.

Benji sighed, dreamily, "What I'd give to be a member. You should audition with me, Jesse. They'll definitely take you in with your voice. You might even get solos."

Jesse seemed to be considering it, and then he asked, "Are there any other a capella groups on campus?"

Benji nodded. "There's the BU Harmonics, the High Notes, and the Barden Bellas, but they all pale in comparison to the Treblemakers."

Disregarding that last part, Jesse turned to Nora. "You should audition. Look, there's the Barden Bellas' booth." There were two girls, dressed to the nines, trying and failing to pass out flyers to students walking by.

"Bad idea," Nora said. "You know how I do on stage."

"You got to get over it somehow. And you love to sing. Don't let your fears get in the way of what you love."

"Gee, thanks, Bob Ross."

Jesse pushed her towards the booth. The red headed girl saw her first and gave her a sweet smile, holding out a flyer.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Chloe, and this is Aubrey." She gestured to the taller blonde girl, who looked her up and down, somewhat disapprovingly. "Do you sing?"

"Yeah," Nora replied, albeit hesitantly. "I was in choir for a couple years."

"Any interest in joining our a capella group? It's a great opportunity to meet talented and wonderful girls, and sing in national championships."

Oh, boy.

"Um," Nora said awkwardly. Chloe seemed really nice; it wasn't like she could say 'no'. "Sure."

"Great!" Chloe beamed. "What's your name?"

"Nora."

"Well, Nora," she gave her a flyer, "we'd love to see you at auditions."

She bid them a 'good-bye' and put the flyer in her pocket. Jesse was grinning at her.

"So proud," he said.

"Shut up."

"So, are you going to audition?" he asked as they continued to walk around the activities fair, surveying the booths.

"We'll see," she answered.

* * *

Nora didn't return to her room until late that night, probably disturbing her roommate, who had finally arrived and was busy trying to sleep. She had spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening with Jesse. Like a good friend, he always had a knack for helping her take her mind off her problems, the most recent one being Andrew.

Because even after everything Andrew did, Nora still missed him, and if her roommate wasn't currently asleep about ten feet away, she might have called him, just to see how he was and if he missed her, too. It was a good thing she didn't; she knew it would only make her feel pathetic and bring her another period of self-loathing.

So, as she lie in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, she remembered what her mother told her earlier that day. _This is a chance to turn over a new leaf. This is a chance to try again, to not fuck up so badly._

She repeated the mantra in her head until she fell asleep.

* * *

**AN: Oh god this is so long and boring and nothing really happens. Sorry about that. I really just had to get the beginning down asap, otherwise I'd never do it and this story would just be another plot bunny crying, trapped in my head forever. I want this to be the first fic that I actually publish and finish. This is an ambitious goal for me. Expect sporadic updates and possible rating change.**

**Title subject to change, because I'm bad at titles and I just named it this because it needed one.**

**Anyway, tell me what you like/dislike. And let me know if you catch any grammar errors, spelling mistakes, etc.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Clark Street Music

Nora nearly dropped the giant cardboard box as she took it off the shelf. Luckily she didn't or Patrick would have had her head. She set it down as gently as possible on the concrete floor, exhaling loudly out of relief and exhaustion. _Last one_. She massaged her aching arms before pulling out a box cutter and slicing through the tape to reveal stacks of music books, CDs, and instructional DVDs. It was going to be her job to take inventory of it all and place them on the shelves outside. She turned up the radio on the ground next to her and sang quietly along to the music that flooded the storeroom. The radio brought some semblance of life to the room, which was all gray concrete, bright fluorescent lights and rickety metal shelves. She grabbed the clipboard hanging on a hook embedded in the wall and began checking the box's contents.

Over the summer, she applied for a position at the Clark Street Music Co., a music store and repair service located a few blocks from Barden's main gate. Three weeks into the job, and Patrick was still only letting her restock books and CDs. Sometimes she helped him with the cash register and computers, because he said he was 'technologically challenged'. He didn't allow her to touch the instruments or interact with customers apart from telling them where they could find the sheet music for _Yellow Submarine_ or _Easy Piano Hits_. He claimed that he needed to see it himself if she was qualified or not.

Understandable, she agreed, but how could she prove her qualifications if she was stuck stacking CDs all day?

"Nora!" Patrick called for her. She almost didn't hear him over Pink.

She stopped counting CDs and headed toward the front of the store. Patrick was assisting a customer, who by the looks of it was growing more and more impatient. The customer she recognized as the Treblemakers' beatboxer she saw over three weeks ago. Seeing him again so soon caught her by surprise; Barden wasn't exactly a small university.

"Nora," Patrick said as she stepped behind the counter next to him. He ran a hand over his blonde dreadlocks as he desperately searched the computer's files. "This guy says he brought in a keyboard last week. I can't find the repair order."

"Derek doesn't keep repair orders on the computer," she said. She walked around him to a filing cabinet. Derek had showed her all of this when she started working, expecting her to take on more jobs than Patrick had actually given her. She addressed the beatboxer, "What name is the order under?"

"It's under 'Donald'," he said curtly.

She flipped through the receipts and pulled one out. "For a Yamaha MM6?"

"That's the one."

She confirmed that the receipt said the repair was done, much to Donald's relief.

"Finally," he muttered.

Patrick took the order from Nora—she bit back a protest. "Okay, I'll go grab it for you." He headed toward the workshop, leaving her behind the counter.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that."

"The management here has gotten pretty shitty lately," he commented.

"I wouldn't know. I just started working here a couple weeks ago." It was true, though; Patrick was a shitty manager.

Donald studied her face, eyes squinting behind his large hipster glasses. "You seem familiar," he said. "Have we met before?"

She was surprised that he seemed to recognize her, but rather than tell him that she saw him at the activities fair, she lied and said, "Probably not."

"No, I've definitely seen you before."

"Maybe just in passing," she suggested. "I go to Barden. You might have seen me around campus or something."

Donald snapped his fingers and grinned. "I saw you at the activities fair. You're that weird kid's girlfriend. What's his deal, anyway?"

He was referring to Benji, obviously, and he was completely wrong. Nora shook her quickly. "No," she said, a little horrified at his conclusion. As nice as a guy as Benji seemed to be, and even though she had to admit that he was kind of cute in his own way, he was not her type. "He's my friend's roommate. I just met him that day. I really don't know him all that well."

"Well, he's a pretty weird guy," he said.

She didn't like people dismissing Benji as weird, even though she felt compelled to agree with them. The boy was undeniably strange. However, he was growing on her and Jesse. His weirdness was oddly endearing. "We're all kinda weird. He's just a little socially awkward, I guess."

There was an awkward silence following her statement—it was all either of them had to say on the matter—and Nora broke it with: "What did you even do to your keyboard?"

"I did _nothing_ to it," he corrected, annoyed. "My asshole friend spilled beer on it."

"Yikes," she said. "Was it just on the keys, then? Because if he spilled it on the speakers or on the top, that might gotten into the major circuits and fried the motherboard and you'd might as well just buy a new one. Did you turn the power off right away?" Nora wasn't an expert on electronics or pianos, but she had dealt with similar problems at her old job.

"Yes, and yes," he answered. "I really don't want to buy a new keyboard. Fucking Bumper." He muttered that last part, but Nora caught it. She remembered Bumper clearly: the short, antagonistic leader of the Treblemakers.

"Best case scenario," she said, trying to reassure him, "all that it needed was to be opened up and cleaned. And since you turned the power off, there's probably a good chance that you saved it from a lot of damage."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and leaned forward against the counter. A grin formed on his lips. "Smart and pretty. I can't believe your boss hides you in the back."

It was just playful flirtation, but she switched her gaze from him to the scratches on the glass countertop, suddenly finding them extremely interesting. She had to wonder if it was just her or if he was just like this with everyone he meets. _Probably the latter_. She only wished that she wasn't so susceptible to guys that came with cute smiles and compliments. That's how Andrew got her in the first place.

_Cool your jets, Nora,_ she said to herself. _He's just having fun with you. There's no way he's actually interested._

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Not really. It's a no brainer that beer, or pretty much any liquid for that matter, and electronics don't mix." She added, "I also worked in a place like this for a couple years before moving here."

Donald opened his mouth to say something, but Patrick had waddled back from the workshop, carrying Donald's keyboard in a black case. He set it gently against the counter.

"Sorry about the wait," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "It's all ready. All it needed was a cleaning."

A smile tugged at Nora's lips. She caught the impressed look on Donald's face._ Called it._

After making the necessary payments—since no parts needed to be replaced, there was only a measly service charge—Donald swung the bag over his shoulder.

"I'll be seeing you around, Nora," he said as he exited the store, throwing her a wink. Not a statement, but a promise.

She rolled her eyes and headed back to the storeroom, but her lips were turned up ever so slightly, and she distantly wondered if that was necessarily a bad thing.

* * *

Nora and Jesse sat on her bed with game controllers and Chinese food later that night. In high school, they had started a weekly ritual of Saturday night take-out and video games or movies—whoever won the coin toss got to choose. It seemed only right that they continue this ritual in college, although less often due to busier lives.

Her roommate, Bethany, was currently out at the library. She left hurriedly once Jesse showed up, saying that she had a paper to finish, with a blush on her cheeks, probably assuming they desperately needed the privacy. Nora made a mental note to assure her that it wasn't like that and Jesse was only a friend.

He went on and on about this girl he met at his job at the radio station, WBUJ—a station that had recently become one of Nora's favorites. Beca was her name, and, according to Jesse, she had the dark and mysterious, alt-girl type personality.

"She doesn't sound like your usual type," Nora commented, wincing as her character met a bloody demise at the hands of the zombie horde.

"I feel like there's a connection," he claimed. "However, the station manager, Luke, might be my nemesis. He's got abs, tattoos and a sexy British accent."

"Yeah, he sounds pretty hot. You don't stand a chance," she joked.

"I appreciate your faith in me, but I don't need it. Once I become a Treblemaker, she'll have no choice but to fall in love with me," he explained with mock seriousness.

Nora snorted and nearly choked on her water.

"Speaking of which," he continued, "you're going to the auditions, right?"

She didn't reply. She was still contemplating whether or not she wanted to go. While she had no qualms against joining an a capella group—in fact it seemed like it would be a lot of fun—getting up on stage alone to sing in front of complete strangers…she shuddered at the thought of it.

"Nora," Jesse pressed. "They're next week. Have you even been practicing?"

"Yes, I've been practicing," she said, mildly exasperated. Sometimes Jesse had a knack of reminding her of her mom.

His brow creased, and he frowned. "You know, you're just going to make it worse by worrying about it so much. Just go in and do it. You'll be fine."

"Easier said than done," she retorted. She sighed and relented, "But if it'll get you off my back, then I'll go."

Jesse nodded happily. "Good. I'll be there for emotional support."

"Thanks. Now, focus on the game—this level's taking forever."

* * *

**AN: Yay, Chapter 2. I wrote so much for the first chapter that I was stressing a bit about the length for this one. Writing meetings between two characters is hard sometimes. This chapter was originally going to be completely different, but then I was introducing too many characters that I didn't know what to do with, so I changed it.**

**I also really like writing about Jesse and Nora more than Donald and Nora, mostly because Nora and Donald don't really know each other right now, but that will change in the future.**

**Next chapter: Auditions and Hood Night.**

**Anyway, enjoy, and review. :)**


	3. Aca-initiation

She had been anxious about auditions all day, feeling simultaneously excited and extremely nervous. Each class she passed fidgeting in her chair and glancing at the clock nearly every five minutes. Her last class on Fridays, Classical Mythology, ended at three. Auditions began at five. She had enough time to shower, change, and maybe build up her confidence enough so she didn't chicken out. Maybe. She forced her mind away from the looming auditions and back to the lecture. She tapped her pencil against the blank page of her notebook as the professor droned on about Oedipus.

Fortunately for her and the rest of the students, the class ended a bit earlier; the professor was feeling a little merciful, especially since it was Friday afternoon and half the class was falling asleep in their chairs.

As Nora packed up her notebook and computer in a frenzy to get out of the lecture hall and high tail it back to her dorm, Brian, her study group partner approached her.

"Pretty boring lecture, huh?" he said, making small talk.

"Yeah," she agreed, a little taken back by his sudden appearance by her side. She slid her laptop into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Did you want to meet up this weekend at the library or something to work on the reports?" she asked, figuring that's what he wanted to talk about. She headed toward to exit with him falling into step beside her. They reached the outside of the building. Though it was approaching the end of September, it was still quite warm. Nevertheless, Nora liked the feeling of the afternoon sun on her skin.

He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds great. It's not due 'til next week, though."

"I guess if you wanted to get a head start…" she trailed off. She looked at the watch on her phone—there was no real rush, but it was a becoming a habit now, and she wanted to leave.

Brian picked up the conversation. "I actually wanted to ask if you were doing anything tonight. Me and some friends were going to catch a movie—we were thinking _Total Recall_ or something—if you wanted to come along."

"It sounds really fun," she began, "but maybe some other time? I have a thing tonight." She elaborated, a bit hesitantly, "A capella auditions—it sounds pretty lame, I know—"

Brian shook his head. "It's not lame. I didn't know you could sing."

Reaching a split in the sidewalk, Nora said, "I'm going this way. So, I'll text you later about the report."

"Yeah," Brian said, looking a little disappointed. "Good luck with the auditions. Or, break a leg, I guess."

She thanked him with a wave and a smile and headed down the path to her dorm. As soon as she reached her room, she placed her laptop on her desk and dropped the rest of her bag unceremoniously on the floor. She rifled through her dresser, trying to find something suitable she could wear to the auditions, and maybe to the party afterward, on the off chance that she didn't completely screw up her audition. She wondered if she had to impress those two Bellas girls with more than just her voice. Did she even have the stage presence necessary to perform at competitions? She gripped the wooden drawer, taking a few breaths to calm herself and dispel the pit in her stomach and the nagging, doubtful voice in the back of her mind. She checked the time. She still had almost two ours left before auditions.

Most of her clothes, at least according to her mother, were pretty masculine. She eventually settled on a blue and black plaid shirt and a pair of dark jeans, finally figuring if anyone dismissed her because of the way she dressed, then she didn't want to be a part of their group anyway.

She undressed and hit the showers, doing vocal warm-ups as steam filled her stall.

* * *

"For you audition, each of you will be singing sixteen bars of Kelly Clarkson's 'Since You've Been Gone'." While a few dozen anxious and hopeful students assembled in the auditorium, Tommy introduced himself as the 'administrator of all things a capella'. He held this title with austerity and lectured them on the seriousness of a capella as they filled out contact sheets. Justin, his ton-deaf assistant, handed out the excerpts of the song that they would be singing.

"This isn't a high school club," he reminded everyone. "This shit is _real life_."

Nora rolled her eyes at that, muttering a sarcastic "okay" under her breath, which did not go unnoticed by Benji, who was sitting between her and Jesse. He frowned at her briefly before returning his attention to Tommy.

"Now, don't just bring it, _sing it_, and let's get started."

She handed her contact information to Justin and followed Jesse and Benji backstage, where a line of candidates was forming. A few started to do vocal warm-ups, until Tommy poked his head behind the curtain and told them to be silent while auditions were taking place. He brought out the first person auditioning, a black girl with hair dyed bright red.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked when he noticed her fidgeting.

"Depends," she said, "you got any benzos?"

"Not on me," he deadpanned.

"Damn. That's too bad."

He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just breathe and don't get so worked up. You'll do fine."

"Let's hope." Her eyes scanned the sheet music. Her part wasn't so bad; she only had to sing until the first chorus. She could handle that. She only had to keep herself from being a nervous wreck once she got on stage.

Watching the some of other candidates made her feel a little bit better about herself. A few people auditioning were downright terrible. Others were very good, and most fell somewhere on the spectrum between. At one point, Nora peeked out from behind the curtain to see a tall, busty brunette, who introduced herself as Stacie, audition. While she hit every note correctly, her exaggerated delivery and dancing made Nora cringe.

She decided to go before Jesse, explaining, "It's just better to get it over with sooner," rather than stand around and wait longer while she stewed in her anxiety. He told her to break a leg.

As she nervously walked on stage, she noticed the two girls from the activities fair in the front row, the only two in the auditorium representing the Barden Bellas. The red head gave her a kind, reassuring smile. Among the Treblemakers, seated in the back of the auditorium, she saw Donald, who leaned forward slightly in his seat when she introduced herself. Was that a look of surprise on his face? The rest of the Treblemakers looked bored; they only had to pay attention to the male candidates.

"Hi. Nora Lewis," she said. She wondered if she should share a fact or tidbit about herself like several others have already done, but she couldn't think of anything say. Focusing her gaze on an empty row of seats in the middle of the auditorium, she tried to force herself to imagine that she was the only one there. She reminded herself that she was only singing the very beginning of the song. It would take her less than a minute. She took a deep breath, and counted off in her head.

"_Here's the thing, we started off friends._

_It was cool, but it was all pretend._

_Yeah yeah_

_Since you've been gone."_

As she sang, she kept it simple, and concentrated only on singing the song well and singing it correctly, remembering her high school choir teacher advising against overcomplicating things by adding unnecessary embellishments at the ends of verses.

"_You dedicated, you took the time._

_Wasn't long till I called you mine."_

_Yeah yeah_

_Since you've been gone._

_And all you'd ever hear me say_

_Is how I pictured me with you._

_That's all you'd ever hear me say."_

By the time she reached the chorus, her eyes had involuntarily begun to wander the auditorium. They stopped briefly on Donald, before she tore them away and turned her focus on the Bellas in the front. The red head still smiled, and her kind face gave Nora the burst of confidence she needed to belt out the final lyrics:

"_But since you've been gone_

_I can breathe for the first time._

_I'm so movin' on, yeah yeah_

_Thanks to you now I get what I want,_

_Since you've been gone."_

There was a short applause after she let last note die down. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, but she mustered up a small bow and a short 'thank you' before excusing herself. When she was back behind the curtain, on the opposite side, she turned around to see Jesse give her the thumbs up and a wide grin as he walked across the stage to begin his audition.

After Jesse, who was undoubtedly a shoo-in for the Treblemakers, Benji sang, and his performance surprised Nora. She was well aware of his passion for a capella, but she did not expect him to blow most of the competition out of the water. He had the voice of the angel, and when he finished, she clapped along with the rest of the audience.

* * *

Standing in an undisclosed location with a cloth bag over her head was not the way Nora had expected to conclude the evening. And she was positive that she could faintly smell something burning.

She had received a text message to meet outside of the music building half an hour ago. Though the messenger was labeled as 'Unknown', she didn't have to think twice about whom it came from. Her heart leapt into her throat and she bit her lip to hold back an ecstatic shriek. _I did it. I got in!_ Bethany glanced at her from her bed and didn't need an explanation when she saw Nora's wide grin and bright eyes. She offered her a 'Congratulations!' before returning to whatever it was she was doing on her laptop.

She rushed to the music building, where about ten other girls were waiting. She recognized the black girl who auditioned first, Stacie, the Australian girl who called herself Fat Amy, and, strangely, the shy Asian girl whose voice had been completely inaudible during the audition. The red headed Bella opened the doors to the building and ushered them inside. She introduced herself as Chloe Beale, and handed them all cloth bags to place over their heads. When Nora questioned whether they were really necessary, Chloe merely shrugged, stating that it was Bella tradition.

There was much stumbling, complaining, and stepping on toes, as the eleven blinded girls were crowded into a new room. Chloe organized them, leading each one individually to her assigned spot.

Finally, after everyone had calmed down, as much as they possibly could with bags over their heads, a new voice chimed in from the darkness, catching several girls, Nora included, momentarily off guard. "Welcome, ladies, to aca-initiation. My name is Aubrey Posen, and I offer my congratulations to all of you for your admittance into the Barden Bellas."

"Yeah!" came one girl's triumphant cheer, which died as quickly as it left her mouth since no one else joined in.

Aubrey continued without missing a beat, "You have each been selected for your extraordinary singing abilities. Now, the sopranos: Jessica, Mary Elise, Lilly. The mezzos: Cynthia Rose, Stacie, Kori, Nora"—there was a rush of air hitting her face as the bag was finally pulled off her head. She noticed she was in a small auditorium, surrounded by so many candles that she was growing slightly fearful of a possible fire hazard. _This is such a weird initiation_, she thought. Nevertheless, she smiled excitedly with her fellow mezzos—"And our altos: Fat Amy, Denise, Ashley, and Beca."

Nora peered over at the last girl named. Was this _the_ Beca Jesse went on and on about? She fit his descriptions, down to the spiral, black ear spike and dark eye make-up. She seemed less excited and more creeped out by the initiation than the rest of the girls.

Aubrey and Chloe moved to stand in front of the group. Aubrey lifted a large, intricately decorated goblet, and said, with all seriousness, "We shall begin by drinking the blood of the sisters that came before."

Maybe Beca had the right idea. Nora wondered if Jesse's initiation was as weird as this one was becoming.

"Dude, no," the alt-girl said.

Chloe quelled their worries when she said, "Don't worry; it's Boone's Farm."

The wine was passed around, each of them taking a sip, followed by yellow scarves, one for each girl, which they were instructed to hold in their right hand.

"Repeat after me," Aubrey said, "I, sing your name,"

There was a cacophony of voices as each girl sang her name differently. Aubrey and Chloe both cringed at the noise, but the ritual continued all the same.

"'Promise to fulfill the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman.'"

They echoed back: "Promise to fulfill the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman."

"And I solemnly promise to never have sexual relations with a Treblemaker or may my vocal cords be ripped out by wolves."

That was a weird demand, Nora thought, as she repeated the oath back. She'd have to ask why that was included. There were several quizzical looks among the group, so she knew she wasn't alone in her confusion.

When they finished reciting the oath, Aubrey smiled and said, "You are all Bellas now," which cued a chorus of excited screaming as the lights in the small auditorium came on. There were congratulatory cheers and hugs all around, even though most of the girls had only just met. Fat Amy (her name was be another thing Nora would have to ask about) grabbed the goblet and took another swig of wine in celebration.

* * *

"Ladies, welcome to Aca-Initiation Night," Aubrey said as she led the new Bellas to an outdoor amphitheater. Down on the stage were several tables with food, red plastic cups and kegs. There were already many students from the other a capella groups partying and drinking. "Prepare to soften the beach."

Having no clue what that was supposed to mean, Nora simply followed Kori and Jessica down to the stage. She ran into Jesse by one of the kegs. As soon as he saw her, he threw an arm around her shoulders, nearly spilling beer down the front of her shirt.

"Nora," he said loudly, slurring his words a little. "You got in. I knew you could do it. I was right."

"You're drunk already?" she asked.

"Treble initiation," he explained, "was getting stupid drunk and committing a felony. We tagged a van. Like, holy shit, Nora." There was slight, drunken panic in his voice, probably due to the fact that, for as long as Nora had known him, he had never done anything remotely criminal.

She gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It's okay. I just joined a cult. Drank some human blood during the initiation rites."

He laughed, criminal activity forgotten. "That's crazy and pretty gross," he mused.

Nora nodded in agreement. "So did Benji get in?" she asked, suddenly remembering his impressive performance earlier that day. "I didn't see him coming down here."

Jesse shook his head. "No, some other guy—Kolio, I think—got in instead. He was the fedora guy."

Nora remembered the fedora guy and was puzzled that the Treblemakers chose him over Benji.

Jesse's eyes fell on something behind her. "That's her. That's Beca," he said, excitedly. The alt-girl was standing by herself, far away from many of the party-goers. He gestured to her with the hand that held the red solo cup as Nora uneasily watched as the beer sloshed close to the rim. "I'm going to go talk to her. Here, have this." He pushed the cup into her hands and made his way up to Beca, clumsily climbing over the seats of the amphitheater.

"Be careful," Nora advised, but he probably didn't hear her over the party or his cries of "Be-caw! Be-caw!" She shook her head, grinning at her friend's antics.

Drink in hand, she left the stage, ascending the stairs to find an empty seat in one of the upper rows. Justin pulled out his laptop and started playing a very familiar song that she didn't know the words to. The music brought more people to the stage to dance, and the growing crowd was making her feel a little claustrophobic. She passed Fat Amy talking to Bumper on the way up, swearing she overheard the Treble leader attempting to hit on the blonde Australian. Taking a sip of the beer Jesse handed her, she hoped the girl was going to turn him down.

"A bit lonely up here, isn't it?"

Startled, Nora turned whipped around to face the source of the voice. Donald was standing in the aisle next to her, plastic cup of cheap beer in his hand, and lips curved in an easy smile.

She wondered why he wasn't with his friends or dancing on the stage. Surely their conversation last week wasn't interesting enough to warrant another visit from him.

Regardless of whatever his reasons for being up here were, she smiled politely and shrugged and said simply, "I like it up here."

"To each his own," he said. "Mind if I sit?" He indicated to the empty space next to hear.

"I'm not stopping you." She scooted over a little to give him more space as he slid into the seat, a little surprised at his question. His knee brushed lightly against hers.

"So," he began, "a Bella…"

"Believe me, I'm still processing this whole thing."

"Soprano, alto?" he asked.

"Mezzo. One of the witches, bitches and britches." She took another sip of beer.

That comment confused Donald. He gave her a quizzical look, eyes squinting from behind his hipster glasses, and brow furrowed. "What?"

"In operas," she explained, "mezzos typically given roles for characters like witches, nurses, villains, and britches—which are male characters played by female actresses. My high school choir teacher was really big on opera."

He was still looking at her strangely. "Talking to you just turns into a whole educational experience."

"I am a fountain of useless and random information."

Donald chuckled. "I wouldn't say completely useless. You did diagnose my keyboard. And it's working like new. So thanks for that."

"I didn't actually do anything, though. You should be thanking Derek; he's the one that fixed it."

"You were more helpful than Blond Dreads," he pointed out.

Nora groaned. Her boss _was_, unfortunately, extremely incompetent. "Honestly, that's not that big of an accomplishment."

He sighed, and took a drink of his beer. "Jesus, you're hard to compliment."

She couldn't help but smile at his comment. "Thanks," she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. They fell into a comfortable silence. As she took another sip of her beer, she noticed Aubrey staring up at them from the stage, looking less than pleased. The words of the oath she took an hour before rang in her mind: _I solemnly swear to never have sexual relations with a Treblemaker._ She frowned. That oath couldn't have been serious, and she was hardly interested in Donald, even though he was attractive and she was undeniably growing fond of him…

She shook those thoughts away. She wasn't ready for a new relationship—her breakup with Andrew still dwelled in the back of her mind—and there was no way Donald was into her like that. She convinced herself that this was only a conversation between budding friends.

Donald interrupted her thoughts. "Do you want to dance?" There was a new song playing, a sensual R&B tune that flowed from the speakers.

It was a tempting offer, but Aubrey was still staring disapprovingly at them, and she reminded herself _Just friends._ "Better not. My cult leader is glaring at us." She nodded her head toward the blonde.

He looked at Aubrey, and threw her a wave and saucy wink. He turned back to Nora. "Well then, I'll talk to you later." He lightly touched her back as a goodbye, and got up from his seat, making his way back down to the stage.

She was still smiling like an idiot when Aubrey marched up to her.

"What were you doing?" she asked, masking her annoyance with a fake smile.

"Just talking," Nora answered.

"I want to be sure you know that the oath you took tonight was completely serious."

"Down to part about being mauled by wolves?"

Aubrey ignored her impudence. She pointed at Donald, who was scanning the crowd with another beer, looking for potential dance partners. "He is dangerous"—Nora frowned—"many Bellas have been lost because of him."

"Look," she assured the Bellas' leader, "We were just talking. I'm not interested in him. I swear."

Her answer seemed to satisfy Aubrey, though only a little bit. "Good," the blonde said. "By the way, we have rehearsals tomorrow morning at ten, so don't come in hungover. And lateness will not be tolerated."

She turned swiftly on her heel and walked down to the stage. Nora rolled her eyes, hoping that Aubrey wasn't always going to be so uppity or high-strung. Her gaze landed on Donald again, and she felt a pang of jealously, which she quickly squashed, when she saw him dancing intimately with Kori.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the slightly longer wait. Here's a big meaty chapter for you.**

**So thank you everyone for the favs, follows, and reviews. It means a lot when I see that people are actually enjoying the story. **

**Let me know what you think of how this story is going. Again, thanks for reading. :)**


	4. The Party

Rehearsal the following morning was held in the same auditorium where the weird cult-like initiation took place. Nora left her dorm quietly so as not to disturb the slumbering Bethany and arrived a few minutes early. Aubrey or Chloe cleared out the however many candles that were used last night—the only evidence of the ritual was a few scattered drops of hardened wax on the concrete floor that they must have missed while cleaning—set up two rows of chairs, and rolled in two whiteboards and a cork board with mounted photos of former Bellas.

"Man, the old Bellas were hot," commented the red-haired black girl who Nora learned was named Cynthia Rose. She, Amy, and Beca the alt-girl were appraising the photos when Nora squeezed in next to them.

She agreed with that assessment. From the pictures, the old Bellas were like a line of Barbie dolls, all tall, thin, and curvaceous, probably picked for looks rather than talent, and donning flight attendant-esque outfits.

Aubrey came in a moment later and said, "Sopranos in the front, altos in the back," gesturing to the chairs.

Nora sat between a perky blonde, who immediately and enthusiastically introduced herself as Jessica—she reminded her of the young woman who greeted her on move-in day, and wondered if there was any relation—and Stacie.

"As you can see," Aubrey continued, "Kori is not here. Last night she was treble-boned and she has been disinvited from the Bellas." The blonde leader took the empty chair intended for Kori and dragged it off.

_Three guesses who, _Nora thought, albeit sourly. She mentally berated herself for that. _Stop being a jealous idiot. You're not interested in him, remember? _She noticed Aubrey shooting her a look that said "I told you so". The blonde's comment about Donald being dangerous was coming back to her.

Kori, as it turned out, was not the only one who had been, as Aubrey put it, "treble-boned" at Aca-Initiation Night. Mary Elise, one of the sopranos who seemed really sweet, was also found guilty, and Aubrey sent her away without sympathy. The skinny brunette ran out of the auditorium in tears, dragging her chair noisily behind her.

"Was that really necessary?" Beca asked.

"This is war, Beca," Aubrey explained. "And it is my duty to make sure my soldiers are prepped for battle. If you don't like it, you can—" The blonde stopped her speech, choking and turning away from the group. Chloe was immediately by her side in an attempt to calm her down.

"You don't want to repeat what happened last year," Chloe said quietly, but the rest of the Bellas heard it.

Last year, according to a YouTube video Lilly, the shy Asian girl, pulled up on her iPad, Aubrey had a serious case of stage fright at the finals and ended up emptying the contents of her stomach all over the first three rows of the audience.

Though she was revealing herself to be strict and authoritative, Nora could sympathize with Aubrey on this front. While she had fortunately never puked during a major performance, she knew the uncomfortable feeling of her stomach twisting itself in knots. The feeling sent her running away from her high school talent show during sophomore year, leaving her friends to perform "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" without her. If Jesse had not been able to fill in on such short notice, the performance would surely have been a mess. She texted them later saying that she had experienced a sudden bought of intense nausea, which actually wasn't very far from the truth. They never forgave her for that.

Her audition yesterday was the first time in years that she didn't run away from stage in fear, though she was tempted.

Aubrey had enough of reliving that horrific moment and brought everyone's attention back to her. "It happened, it's over."

Turning the focus back to rehearsals, she began passing out copies of the set list. Among the songs listed were "The Sign", "Eternal Flame", "Turn the Beat Around", and numerous tracks by Mariah Carey. Nora was somewhat familiar with them, but only because they belonged to a collection of songs that her mother liked to blast on the stereo early on Saturday mornings while she did aerobics in the living room. She cringed at the thought of singing them, and she wasn't the only one who had a problem with the set.

"There's nothing from this century on here," Beca pointed out.

Aubrey gave her an impatient smile. "Because we don't stray from tradition."

* * *

The rehearsal lasted much longer than Nora had expected, well over three hours with a small break for lunch, and she kept wondering when it would end, because she had other things she wanted to do. She texted Brian during the lunch break to tell him that she probably would not make it to the library on time and to ask if he could reschedule for later in the afternoon or Sunday. She didn't get to look at his reply, because the Bellas were back on their feet and learning more choreography.

Aubrey finally called it, exasperated from watching the girls repeatedly botch the singing and dancing. Nora let out a relieved sigh and packed her stuff together. The Bella leader passed out performance schedules and announced that they were having a gig next week at a frat house. _A gig so soon?_ Nora wasn't sure how she felt about that.

As she left the auditorium with the schedule, Amy walked up beside her, catching her off guard.

"I don't know if the songs were that bad to begin with or if we just suck," the Australian commented.

"Both probably," Nora replied. "Did you notice that they were the same as the video?"

"Aubrey said it was…" Amy paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before belting, "Tradition! Duh duh tradition!"

"_Fiddler on the Roof_?" Nora asked, grinning. She liked Amy already.

The Australian nodded. "Did it in high school with some aboriginals. I haven't introduced myself yet; I'm Fat Amy."

She already knew that, but it would be weird to point that out, so she just introduced herself as well. "Nora. Why 'Fat Amy'?"

"That's the third time someone's asked me that this year. I should just make a university-wide announcement explaining it. It's so twig bitches like you and douchebags don't say it behind my back."

"That's pretty smart," Nora said. She waved goodbye to Amy as she headed back to her apartment. The rehearsal went terribly, but they had just started and, at the very least, she made a new friend. Maybe the gig will go well; they were going to be rehearsing everyday, after all…

* * *

Nora returned to her dorm room, shoulders slumped and feeling ridiculous in that stupid flight attendant uniform. She opened her door and immediately collapsed face first on her bed.

Their performance at the SBT frat house was awful, only slightly better than their last rehearsal because most of them were at least sort of in synch with each other. One of the frat boys words aptly described what it was: "a barnyard explosion". Their singing was lacking and Aubrey and Chloe were the only ones dancing on beat. Aubrey rubbed salt in the wound as the were walking out of the frat house by telling them to never forget the shame and embarrassment they were feeling so they never wanted to feel that way again.

There was a slight silver lining, for Nora at least. Even though she was very nervous about the gig, because they had only been rehearsing for a week, she found that something about singing in a group, even though they were pretty terrible, helped combat her stage fright. Maybe it was the fact that the attention was mostly on the soloists, Chloe and Aubrey.

They still sucked though, and Aubrey was extremely pissed about it. When Chloe revealed she had vocal nodules, the Bella leader was even more upset.

She changed out of the uniform and into something more comfortable before lying back down for a nap, relishing in the quiet of the empty dorm room. She didn't know where Bethany had run off to, probably at dinner or something, but she didn't care right now.

She awoke a few hours later when she heard her door open. Bethany arrived back from wherever she was. Once she saw her roommate lying in bed, she apologized for waking her. Nora told her not to worry about it; it was dark outside and she was starting to get hungry from skipping dinner.

"How did the gig go?" Bethany asked. Nora's tired, but dramatic groan in response was drowned out by her pillow. "I'm sorry." Bethany left the room again, this time with her shower caddy, towel, and hairdryer. She got back to the room about half an hour later. Nora was still in bed, but she had fired up her Xbox, finding some therapeutic satisfaction in gunning down virtual enemies. There was a half-eaten bowl of ramen within arms reach on her desk.

She died, and when she hit 'A' to restart the level, she noticed Bethany standing before a mirror, dressed in a small black skirt and white blouse. Her roommate was carefully applying her makeup.

"You going somewhere?" Nora asked.

Bethany put away her eyeliner and looked at Nora through the mirror, nodding. "June—you know June, right?" Though June didn't talk to Nora much, apart from the usual hellos and good mornings when they passed each other in the hall or bathroom, it was hard not to know _of _her. She was a notorious partier that lived down the hall from them. She only recently befriended Bethany. "She's taking me to a party," Beth said excitedly.

"Have you ever partied before?" she asked.

Beth nodded, but then paused. A thoughtful look crossed her face. "Well, I went to a big barbeque at a friends house in high school. She invited a lot of people."

"That doesn't really count."

"Then, no. This is my first real party."

She went back to applying her make-up and fixing her hair. "What do you think?" Bethany asked once she had finished. She twirled around to show off her outfit.

Nora appraised her and gave her the thumbs up. "Hot," she said.

Bethany smiled in response and grabbed her purse, just as a knock on the door signaled the arrival of June. The sophomore walked in without bothering to wait for Nora's "who is it?" She greeted Nora with a simple "hello", like usual, and turned to Bethany.

"You ready?" she asked.

Bethany nodded, and the pair walked out of the room. "I'll see you later!" she said to Nora.

"Be safe," Nora called. "Make good choices!"

The door slammed shut, and, now alone, she returned to the video game.

* * *

Her phone buzzed an hour later; caller ID telling her it was Bethany. Nora didn't know what to expect, Beth rarely even texted her. Her original thought was that maybe Bethany had forgotten her keys and was making sure Nora was in the room to let her in.

When she answered the phone, it was a different story.

"Nora?" Beth shouted into the phone. Nora could hear a loud bass beat reverberating from the speakers.

"What's up?" she asked.

Beth was obviously drunk; her words slurred together and her voice had an emotional edge to it. She explained the best she could with an intoxicated brain that June had left the party without her and she was all alone and would it be possible for Nora to come get her?

Nora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Where are you?"

"Delta Chi frat house," she said. Nora knew where that was. She had walked down fraternity row to and from the gig at SBT. It wasn't too far away from Laville Hall.

"Okay, I'll be there soon," she assured Beth. "Just stay there and don't drink anything else."

* * *

It was past midnight when she arrived, and the party was still in full swing. There was a long line of people waiting to get in that wrapped around the frat house. Nora sighed, and made her way to the front of the line, ignoring the students that were yelling at her.

"Hey," one guy shouted—she didn't bother to get a good look at him—"wait in line like everyone else."

She reached the bouncer, a barrel-chested boy of average height with a blue and orange striped bro tank. He held his arm out to prevent her from entering. "No cutting," he said.

"I'm just here to get my friend," she explained.

The bouncer scoffed. "Like I haven't heard that before. Get in the back of the line."

She tried to reason with him. "I'll be in and out in like two minutes."

"I'm not gonna say this again," he said in a obnoxious and condescending tone, "either go to the back of the line or come back wearing something a little more flattering." He indicated to her hoodie and loose gray band t-shirt. It was an old hand-me-down shirt she managed to snag from her older brother before he went off to college a few years ago.

She didn't move, only glowered up at him. The people behind her were growing impatient, since she was keeping them from entering the party, but she didn't care. She had to get it and grab Bethany before she did anything she would regret.

The bouncer was not letting up, however, no matter how she much tried to explain; his rules were set in stone and she was not getting in. Her shoulders fell and she turned go to the back of the line when a voice rang out over the thundering music coming from the speakers mounted inside and outside the house.

"Nora!" the voice said. She looked past the bouncer to see a familiar face approaching her. Relief shot through her.

"Nora," Donald repeated, "I didn't know you'd be here." He turned to the bouncer. "It's okay, man, she's with me." The bouncer shot him a surprised look, but nonetheless let Nora pass. She didn't give the bouncer a passing glance as Donald draped a long arm over her shoulders and guided her into the frat house. Once inside, Nora understood why there was such a long line. The house was so packed, it was almost impossible for them to maneuver through people. Donald pulled her closer to him—she ignored the slight tingle in her stomach from the closeness—so they could squeeze through a crowd of gyrating hips to a small empty space near the back of the foyer. He leaned in close so she could hear him over the music.

"Want me to get you a drink?" Even though he was speaking at a normal volume, his voice was nearly drowned out by the beat.

"I'm not here for the party." When confusion crossed his face, she explained, "My roommate called me to come get her, because the friend she was with ditched her."

"Oh," he said. "Do you know where she is?"

"No." She scanned the crowd of dancers, but the number of people and poor lighting made it hard to discern any face in the group. She should have told Bethany to just meet her outside the house.

"I'll help you find her. What does she look like?" Donald offered.

Nora shook her head, realizing that it was probably hard to see; the only light in the room was coming from a flashing colored strobe near the DJ's table behind them. "It's okay. You didn't come here to go on a manhunt for my drunk roommate."

"You'll find her faster with help," he pointed out. "And I'm an pro at finding people at parties."

She relented. He'd be able to see over people better than her anyway. She gave him a short description of Bethany: light brown hair (not that anyone would be able to tell under the flashing strobe), kind of tall, and she was wearing a white blouse and black skirt. They split off to search.

Finding one girl at the frat party proved to be more difficult than Nora expected. The house was much bigger than it looked, and every nook was crammed with people at various stages of intoxication. She checked upstairs, outside, in the bathroom, nearly walking in on a couple starting to undress each other. They didn't seem to notice her, but that didn't stop her from slamming the door shut quickly while mumbling embarrassed apologies.

Donald met her in the kitchen. He, too, had no luck finding her friend. (_Some pro,_ she thought.) Nora sighed. She was beginning to feel guilty for the times when she called Jesse to come get her at a house party, back when she used to enjoy parties. And even though her willing joined the search, she felt bad for tearing Donald away from the party, especially since their attempts to find Beth among the throngs of party-goers were so far fruitless. As she considered serving herself one of the many drinks that lined the countertop—god knows she was needing one about now—something outside the kitchen, in the hallway, caught her eye.

She saw Beth stumbling down the hall, with an overly hands-y frat boy following close behind her. He trapped her in a corner, trying to get her to drink more. Anger welled up inside her, and she marched out of the kitchen and up to the pair.

"Come on, don't be like this," the boy insisted, waving the red cup under Beth's nose. She tried to push him away, but he was either to strong or she was to drunk, and she let her arms fall weakly to her sides. A look of relief crossed her face when she saw Nora. The boy noticed this new girl's approach, and keeping one arm on the wall, effectively blocking off any escape for Beth, he turned to face her, cocky grin falling from his lips.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yeah," Nora said, "you can leave my friend alone, asshole."

He scoffed. "She doesn't mind. She likes it."

She raised a brow, and glanced at Bethany, who clearly found this encounter unpleasant. "Really?" she said, tone dripping with anger and sarcasm. "Did she say that? Did you literally hear those words coming from her mouth?"

He straightened his back and glared down at her. "Why don't you just fuck off, bitch? This has nothing to do with you." He turned back to Bethany. His mistake, because Nora grabbed the back of his shirt and gave a sharp tug, pulling him away from her roommate. He retaliated by roughly shoving her away, causing her to stumble into a few dancers.

She usually didn't resort to physical violence—unless her playful fights with Jesse could be considered violent. She considered herself somewhat a pacifist, and would rather avoid this type of confrontation if she could help it, but her tolerance for assholes like this was extremely low, and her anger was fueling her actions. She was pretty sure she would have punched him right in the face if Donald hadn't wedged himself between them at that moment.

"Hey, man, I think it's time you leave these two ladies alone," Donald said. He towered over the frat boy, and Nora wondered if he was trying to use his height to intimidate him. His fists were clenched at his sides, like he was trying to resist punching this guy.

Thankfully, it didn't come to that. Before 'frat asshole', as Nora had just dubbed him, could shout obscenities or reel his fist back for a punch, a second guy intervened.

"What's going on here, Don?" he asked. He wasn't a member of the Treblemakers; Nora would have recognized him if he was. He was apparently friends or acquaintances with Donald, though.

The beatboxer's posture relaxed. He pointed his thumb at frat asshole. "This guy just can't take 'no' for an answer," he replied simply.

This new guy looked at Nora and Bethany. "Sorry, he's a new pledge." He turned to frat asshole and said, "Pat, they're not interested, so why don't you get the fuck outta here?"

Pat wasn't going to argue with him. He shot Nora and Donald one last dirty look before walking back down the hall.

As Donald and his friend exchanged a few words, Nora went to Bethany.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Bethany nodded, and threw her arms around her roommate. "Thanks for saving me from that guy. He wouldn't leave me alone."

Nora was surprised at the sudden physical contact, but gently, though hesitantly, returned the hug.

When she broke off from the hug, she told Donald that she and Bethany were going to leave. He finished speaking to his friend, who returned to the party, and said, "Let me walk you back."

Nora shook her head. "You've helped enough. Just go back to the party."

"It's winding down," he said, rolling his shoulder in a half-shrug. She looked around the room. It was still lively and packed. "There are a lot of creeps out at night. I'd feel better if I knew you got back safely."

She was about to say that she was capable of handling herself—she would have handled frat asshole Pat if he didn't interfere—but she remembered she had Bethany with her, who was still very drunk and would likely need help walking back incase she fell or ran into the cops or another asshole.

"Okay," she said. "But don't try anything. I've got mace and I'm not afraid to use it," she half joked/half warned.

He raised his his hands in defense, eyes sparkling and smile spreading across his face—she was starting to really like his smiles. "Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Bethany collapsed on the bed as soon as they walked into the dorm room, kicking her heels off and curling up with Donald's mustard yellow cardigan. He gave it to her when he noticed her hugging herself and shivering from the cold night air. Nora put a bottle of water on her desk and a trashcan at the front of the bed. She sobered up some on the walk back to Laville Hall and was now only dead tired, but Nora figured it wouldn't hurt to take a few precautions.

She flipped the lights off and shut the door behind her. One of the rules posted in every hallway of Laville was that guests had to be escorted out, regardless of whether they were fellow students or not. Donald walked down the quiet hall with Nora.

He stopped abruptly near the end of the hall. "You guys have lounges?"

"Just on this floor," Nora said, confused. _Didn't most dorms here have lounges?_

Donald answered her unvoiced question. "Franklin just has a study room and lobby, but it's an older dorm, so they didn't put one in." He walked into the lounge, which was completely empty. The lights were still on, though, and he surveyed the room. The lounge was a small room with a pool table, a TV, and an upright piano. It was mostly used for fun, but Nora sometimes went in there for some relaxed study for her easier classes. When he saw the piano, he said, "I noticed the keyboard in your room. You play?"

"Not as often as I probably should, but yeah. I took lessons when I was a kid."

Donald sat at the bench and lifted the fall, running his fingers over the ivory keys. The piano was old, but it was still beautiful, it's glossy ebony wood shinning under the fluorescent lights. He patted the spot next to him, inviting her to sit down. She joined him as he began to play. Nora recognized the piece instantly.

"Pachelbel's Canon," she said. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a classical music fan."

"I'm not really," Donald said, not taking his eyes off the keys. "I just like this song. It's easy to play, and it's got a nice melody, don't you think?"

She nodded. It was one of her favorite songs to play and listen to, actually. It was gentle and calm, based off variations of the same group of measures that gradually got more and more complex as the song progressed. She watched his hands travel across the keys, slowly and a bit clumsily as the song got harder. He hit the final note and she gave him an approving smile.

"I'm still learning," he said. He rubbed the back of his head, mildly embarrassed. "I'm not that great at it actually. I don't have a lot of time to practice."

"I thought it was good." She liked this show of humbleness. She didn't expect it. Since he tended to flirt, she originally thought he was a bit full of himself.

And maybe he was, sometimes. But not now.

"Your turn," he said, scooting over a few inches on the bench to allow her better access to the keys.

"I'm pretty rusty, but okay."

She touched the keys and began playing an old rock n' roll tune, "What I'd Say" by Ray Charles. It was another one of her favorites, mostly because it was a lively and cheery tune with elements of jazz and blues. Donald's eyes shifted from her hands to her face.

She caught his gaze briefly in her periphery, but quickly returned her attention back to her hands and the keys. "Stop staring at me," she said.

He was grinning, she could hear it in his voice, a light teasing lilt. Were they this comfortable with each other already where he could tease her? "Why? Is it making you nervous?"

"Nope," she lied. She finished with a few chords. The sound drifted off, leaving them in silence. She turned her head toward Donald. He had gotten closer. Behind his glasses, his eyes were a warm coffee brown. She instinctually leaned a bit closer.

"Rusty, my ass," he whispered, warm breath fanning across her face. She caught a faint whiff of alcohol on his breath, and although she knew he didn't drink much at the party, it was enough to bring her back to her senses. She moved away and closed the fall over the keys.

"It's late," she said. "And I better check to make sure Bethany's still breathing." It was a bullshit excuse, and she knew it. Bethany was not nearly drunk enough to be in any real danger. The worse she had in store was an unpleasant hangover in the morning.

"Right." His smile fell from his face. He got up from the bench and Nora followed him out of the lounge.

The trip down to the lobby was uncomfortably silent, and she hated it. Her mind was filled with too many confusing thoughts. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want that? She kept remembering Aubrey's oath, and maybe a thousand other reasons why she shouldn't get involved. She reminded herself that she was over analyzing this. This meant nothing. Once they reached the lobby, however, Donald turned around.

"Can I call you?" he asked. He had an earnest look on his face, one that seemed almost out of character for him, and made her heart leap. Then again, she had only spoken to him on a few occasions, so maybe she didn't know everything that was in character for him yet.

Despite all the thoughts rolling through her head, she decided to screw it_. _She really wanted to get to know him, and she couldn't rely on these random meetings to do it.

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He smiled at that, too.

They quickly exchanged numbers. He gave her a brief good-bye, promising to text or call her soon, before leaving through the double doors.

She watched him leave, until the white stripes on his t-shirt dissolved into the darkness. Looking down at her phone, she noted with a grin that he had put a period in front of his name, so it appeared at the top of her contacts list, right above 'Andrew'.

* * *

**AN: God, when are these dorks gonna make out already? I'm starting to write a bit about Nora's back story, so if you're confused, don't worry, it will all be explained eventually.**

**Really sorry for the even longer wait. I got Mass Effect and I temporarily lost the desire to do anything but play it. Fellow gamers, you know what it's like.**

**The next chapter shouldn't actually be as long, because, if I remember correctly, I have already written at least half of it. I just need to go through and edit and add the rest.**

**Doc Manager keeps eating the line breaks I put in, which is getting really annoying with longer chapters. If you have found the secret way to keep line breaks in through uploading, please let me know. I've tried asterisks and dashes, and neither work.**

**Also, here are the songs on YouTube if you're interested:**

**Pachelbel's Canon: watch?v=MK6heUdRr-E**

**What I'd Say (cover): watch?v=SLdvZj5gT6U**


	5. Riff Off

After the night of the party, Nora began to see Donald more often: on the quad between classes, at the food court, and on the way back to her dorm. He made more trips to her work, where he brightened her dull job of stocking shelves. Their encounters were made up of talking, teasing each other, and the occasional playful flirting on Donald's part. She was growing used to the flirting, and usually responded with a few jabs and remarks of her own. When they parted, she almost always had a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach.

She received a text from Donald on Thursday while she walked to class with Jesse, an invitation to hang out at his dorm and a request to have his yellow cardigan back.

Jesse noticed the look on her face when she looked at her inbox and saw the message, the subtle brightening of her eyes, and the corners of her mouth turning up in a small smile. He also caught on to the overall changes in her mood. She stopped thinking about Andrew, a topic that still made her cringe, her focus on shifting to her classes and new friends. He stopped his one-sided debate about who was the better composer—John Williams or Hans Zimmer—and asked, "Who are you texting?"

"No one," Nora replied, reading over the message and stowing the phone in her pocket. She didn't mention her relationship with Donald to Jesse, partially afraid of what he was going to say, and partially because she didn't know how she even felt about it. There was a part of her, no matter how hard she tried to squash it, that wanted to be a little more than friends.

Jesse was good at being attune to his friends' emotions, even when he seemed like his mind was only occupied by one thing. "So what's up with you and Donald?" His question still caught her off guard, even though they've been friends for years and she should have known she wasn't as subtle with Donald as she would have liked to believe.

"Why?"

Jesse shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing. I've just seen you together on the quad."

"We're just friends," she assured him.

He stopped walking, and faced her. "Look, Donald's a cool guy and everything, but he doesn't know what you went through with Andrew—"

"Don't bring him up, please." If there was anything that could sour her mood faster…

He ignored her interruption and kept talking. "And you're still kind of naïve when it comes to these things. I don't want you getting hurt."

"You don't know what happened between me and Andrew, either," she argued, feeling anger welling up inside her. He may have been able to read her like a book most of the time, but there were still many things she never told him.

"I'm just telling you to be careful."

"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself, Jesse," she finished, turning on her heel and walking swiftly to class.

* * *

Nora took Donald up on his invitation. She was initially hesitant about being in his room alone, especially after her brief argument with Jesse, but figured if he was going to try something, he would have done it while they were in the lounge after the party.

She had lucked out on Thursdays and only had morning classes. Donald said he only had a "bullshit" gen ed that he could skip with no problems.

He lived in Franklin Hall, which was only a couple buildings down the street from Laville. Where Franklin lacked in cool dorm lounges, it made up for with larger rooms. In her Laville room, she barely had enough room for her keyboard, which she ended up putting on her desk. The TV and Xbox used up most of the remaining space. Not that she had minded too much—she liked doing her homework on her bed, anyway—but when she saw Donald's room, she was instantly jealous. The room was already large enough, but Donald was much more efficient with space than she was, taking advantage of every nook to make the room as spacious as possible.

"Why is your room so much bigger than mine?" she complained, perched on his bed as he rummaged through his shelves for a movie. He was surprisingly neat—the bed was made and everything—and she was wondering if he tidied up before she arrived or if he was always this clean. The same could not be said for his roommate, however, whom she had yet to meet.

"It was originally intended for three people," he said. That explained it. Not every room in Franklin was like this. "How about this?" He showed her the cover of a movie. She didn't see the title, but one look at the bloody, skeletal face made her shake her head and cringe.

"No," she said quickly. "I hate horror movies."

"You can hold my hand if you get scared," he offered, grinning. _Cheeky bastard_, she thought. When she shook her head again, he returned the movie to the shelf, and grabbed another. "What about _Prometheus_? It's like a prequel to _Alien_. It's not that scary."

She thought about it for a moment. "I do like Noomi Rapace…and I'm willing to make an exception for the _Alien_ franchise." She knew a few interesting facts about the movie series, but given their rather disturbing nature, she decided to keep them to herself this time.

He popped the movie into his roommate's Playstation, adjusting the TV before jumping on the bed next to her. They sat closer together than necessary on the bed, shoulders touching.

There were parts of the movie that freaked her out, a couple deaths that made her stomach churn. Donald noticed the discomfort on her face during one scene and her arms tightening around the pillow that she held against her chest. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "You know, if this is too scary, I can think of a few _other_ things we could do…"

She could tell he was joking; he couldn't keep that goddamn smile off his face. She smiled and elbowed him lightly, and said, "I'd rather let one of those things choke me." He rubbed his side and gave her a look of mock hurt.

They settled back into a brief, comfortable silence as the movie continued. She recalled what Jesse told her earlier that day. He was being overprotective, and she didn't need that from her best friend. She was an adult, and she liked how things were with her and Donald. Despite her confused feelings toward the beatboxer and his relentless—though joking, she reminded herself—flirting, she had grown rather comfortable around him.

* * *

The Riff-Off was something new. Donald told her about it after the movie, and she thought she heard Jesse mention it once or twice.

"So is it like a dance-off, but with singing?" she asked. It was a weird to envision, especially with a capella, but the upcoming competition might have explained why Aubrey and Chloe began stressing more improvisation, though none of that had any room in their performance set.

Nora got the call from Aubrey to meet outside the music building at nine o'clock so the Bellas could walk together to the sketchiest abandoned pool in Atlanta.

The rules were straightforward. You sing a song that went with the category, stealing songs from other groups by matching the last word sung. If you can't think of a song, you are cut off. If you repeat a song, you are cut off. And if you suck, you are cut off.

The Bellas and Trebles had been going back and forth throughout the Riff-Off. It had gone on like this from "Ladies of the 80s" to the new theme, "Songs About Sex". Nora stood back, watching the Riff-Off unfold. Donald had been meeting her gaze all night, gesturing with his head at her like he wanted her to join in at some point. She shook her head. _No way in hell._

One of the Trebles interrupted Stacie, the bleached-blonde one with spiked hair (She thinks his name was Greg?). As he sang a particularly sexual pop song, complete with semi-erotic dancing, a song popped into Nora's head. She looked back at Donald, who raised his eyebrows at her. _Come on, Nora._ She remembered Jesse's words to her at the beginning of the semester: _You got to get over it somehow._ But she did not want to get over it here. She stayed back with the Bellas as Greg continued his song. He was nearing the end, and it seemed like the Trebles were going to win. The Bellas glanced around at each other anxiously.

Amy was standing next to Nora as she followed the Greg's singing, figuring out where her song would fit in with his—not that she was going to join in. Screw Jesse and his advice. If she messed up, and the pit on her stomach was telling her that was a definite possibility, she make a complete ass of her self in front of every a capella fan on campus. No, she was definitely going to hang back.

Noticing her mouthing of the lyrics, Amy asked, "You have a song?"

She took her eyes off Greg. "Yeah, but it's not—"

The Australian did not let her finish as she shoved Nora in front of Greg.

Nora froze. Greg's singing trailed off. All eyes were on her and she was plotting Amy's death in her head.

"—_I-I wave my hands and I got you. And you feel so fine assist in me, but now it's my turn to watch you, ain't gonna stop you," _she sang nervously, stumbling over the words. Both the Trebles and the Bellas seemed surprise, but whether it was pleasant surprise or not, she couldn't tell. The song wasn't really any more sexual than what Greg was singing, but she was almost too embarrassed to continue, mostly because so many people were staring at her. This was much different than auditions and the gig. This was her first time singing alone since then. This felt real, and the spotlight was on her. There were no empty seats to stare at or kind faces to give her reassurance. She tried to swallow down her stage fright, locking eyes with the Treble, and shooing him away. _It would be more embarrassing to stop now._

Donald sauntered over to her, pushing Greg out of the way. His hand was propped under his chin as he looked her up and down. She felt her cheeks heat up, but she nevertheless kept singing, maintaining eye contact with him.

She could try to be as nonchalant as possible, but he made her nervous when he did this, just not in the same way standing up and singing in front of a room full of strangers did. Sometimes the mixed signals threw her for a loop. She knew she needed to keep her distance while she was in this friendship, more for her sake than for his, but the closer he got, the harder it was becoming not to fall victim to his charms.

So while he made her heart hammer in her chest, and heat rise in her cheeks, from the way he was nodding his head, like he enjoyed her performance, she felt her original stage fright and embarrassment melt away. She could look at his approving face and remember _friend_. He became her anchor during her set. Everyone else suddenly vanished. It was only her and him, and she could handle that for the Riff-Off.

She didn't even notice when Stacie and Cynthia came in for support, joining in at the chorus, dancing and grinding on either side of her.

"_If you wanna grab my neck talk sexy to me like that_

_Just do what I taught you, when I give you my heat, and I need you to push it right back._

"_Baby—"_

Donald cut her off with a wave of his hands, (_Fuck_, she thought) earning groans from the Bellas "_—Baby, I can come by and pick you up. We'll make love into the night, it's never enough."_

The other Trebles joined in. Donald led them, and his eyes never left hers. He was standing less than a foot away from her, and she resisted the urge to take a step back, to free up some space between them so he wouldn't be able to see the heat in her face. She was wearing heeled boots, but he was still almost a head taller than her.

He sang to her, being as sensual as he possibly could, probably expecting her to swoon or go weak at the knees. She stood her ground, trying to look bored with him, even though he had her heart racing. When he threw her a wink, she made a show of rolling her eyes at him. He really enjoyed toying with her like this.

She took her mind off him—it was difficult; he was so close to her—and focused on thinking of another song to hit him with. Aubrey tried to pull her back, but Nora didn't even notice. Her attention shifted back to the Treble in front of her.

"_Your wish is my command, so I'll cancel my plans tonight._

_I'll make you understand that I'm—"_

Confidence renewed by the cheers she received from her previous performance and a feeling of competitiveness, Nora broke in with: "—_I'm nobody's wife._ _But when I want, when I want it,_ _you gotta be ready."_

She placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back with a playful smirk on her lips. _Two can play at this game_.

"_I don't want it all the time,_

_But when I get it,_

_I better be satisfied_

_So give it to me right,_

_Or don't give it to me at all."_

"_I—"_

"—_I know I can't help myself_

_You're all in the world to me."_

Jesse had killer timing. _Goddamit._ Nora glared at him when he interrupted her song with Foreigner, ignoring the warning look he gave her, probably in response to her exchange with Donald. Donald also seemed less than pleased at the interruption. Jesse, however, had shifted his focus, and was too busy giving all his attention to the alt-girl in the back that he didn't notice or care.

"_It feels like the first time_

_Feels like the very first time_

_It feels like the first time_

_It feels like the very first time."_

_That boy is smitten_, Nora thought, a small smile playing on her lips. She returned back to the Bellas, as Beca jumped up in front of Jesse and began rapping.

"_It's going down, fade to Blackstreet_

_The homies got RB, collab' creations_

_Bump like acne, no doubt_

_I put it down, never slouch"_

Nora was as taken back as her fellow Bellas, but she thought, _you know, it's not that surprising that Beca knows this song._

As soon as Beca hit a new verse, Amy joined it at "got game by the pound". Soon the remaining Bellas, except for Aubrey, began harmonizing, and victory felt so close. Their audience and the BU Harmonics had even joined in.

As they sang the chorus, the sopranos chiming in with "No Diggity", Nora couldn't help but smile. _That's right. This is why I joined._

Beca finished the song with a smug grin, singing, "_We out!"_ and the Bellas received applause all around.

However, "Tough blow, ladies," Justin said. "But the word you had to match was 'it'. And you sang 'it's'. You've been"—two claps—"CUT OFF!" He handed the Hoobastank microphone off to Bumper, while the Trebles whooped and cheered. Donald even gave Justin a hug.

"I've never heard that rule," Aubrey protested.

Bumper was rubbing the victory in Amy's face, tapping her breasts with the microphone.

"Oh, no," she said. "I have dickhead paralysis. It happens whenever I'm around dickheads!"

"Come on, ladies," Aubrey said, pulling the Bellas into a circle.

Amy returned to the Bellas and clapped her on the back, exclaiming, "Didn't know you had _that_ in you."

Nora's lips pulled back in a wide grin. "Thanks."

Aubrey spoke up, "I want you all to make a list of everything you did wrong."

There were groans all around. Aubrey's perfectionism was getting on everyone's nerves.

"Guys," Beca said, "what we did was awesome, right?"

"Calm your pits, Beca," she spat. "We still lost."

"Yeah, but it was spontaneous," Beca argued. "We were actually listening to—"

Aubrey ignored her. "Alright, everybody, hands in. 'Ah' on my count." She looked directly at Stacie.

"On three or after three?" the buxom brunette asked.

"_On_ three," Cynthia Rose corrected. There was still some disagreement among the Bellas about the timing.

Stacie sighed, exasperated. "Why can't we get this right?"

As the Bellas began to file out of the pool, Amy sidled up to Nora. "It looked like you were going to strangle Jesse for cockblocking you," she whispered.

"What?" Nora questioned, surprised at Amy's claim.

The Aussie smirked. "You know what I'm talking about. You and Donald were pretty much having eye sex the whole time. I really wanted to yell at you to get a room, but you know how Aubrey gets."

The mezzo shook her head. "We weren't having eye sex."

Amy gave her a humoring nod. "Uh-huh, sure." She noticed said Treble making his way toward them. Nudging Nora's shoulder, she sang, "Someone's got a toner!" before leaving her alone with Donald.

"Better luck next time," he said, with a wide smirk and cocky tone.

"We'll kick your asses next time," Nora promised.

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded to humor her, taking what she said with a grain of salt. "Anyway, I didn't come over here just to rub our victory in your face." She quirked an eyebrow in response, and he continued, "We're having a Halloween party at the Treble House next weekend. I know you're not a fan of parties, but we throw the best parties."

She hesitated, mulling over the invitation. "I don't know," she said, remembering her track record when it came to parties.

"Come on," he urged. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"I'll think about it," she decided. Half of her really wanted to go, but the other half was telling her what a bad idea it was.

"Alright. Text me if you decided to come, okay?" Before he returned to the Treblemakers, he pulled her into a quick good-bye hug, wrapping his arms gently around her shoulders. It caught her by surprise and she barely had time to return it before he parted from her. His hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment. "See you around," he said, dropping them to his sides. He turned around and jogged to catch up with the Trebles, who were already gone from the pool, though their cheers could still be heard from inside.

Nora caught up with the Bellas. Amy gave her a knowing look, which she rolled her eyes at. Aubrey side-glanced at her, lips pulled into a frown, but Nora was too distracted by Amy to notice it.

* * *

**AN: A little announcement: I started my sophomore year of college this week, so I'm going to be pretty busy. I won't have as much time to work on the story, so just bear in mind that updates will take longer. If it becomes too much, I may have to put the story on a hiatus.**

**Anyway, read and review. Thanks!**

**Songs: "Love and Sex and Magic" by Ciara, "Making Love" by Usher, and "Give it to Me Right" by Melanie Fiona. Lots of R&B.**


	6. AN

I haven't abandoned this!

I'm going to be editing some of the chapters of this story. I want to develop Nora more in the early chapters. I've thought of some more about why she would want to go to Barden and why she is hesitant about starting a relationship with Donald.

I may just republish the story under a new name or keep it here. I don't know yet, because it might get complicated if I add or delete chapters in between.

Anyway, thank you for following the story, and sorry this isn't a chapter update. I know, it's really disappointing to see an alert and realize it's just an author's note.


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